


Open the Door

by Azellma



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azellma/pseuds/Azellma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shot, set just post-Committed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open the Door

He'd driven in circles for an hour, the scene replaying in his head. The locked door. Adam Trent. The shard of pottery against her throat. At the time he'd barely registered the fear in her eyes, but now it was all he could see and it squeezed his chest like a vice.

He didn't remember making the decision to drive to her house. It was as if the decision had been made for him, by some reptilian part of his brain. And then he was there, standing on her porch, unsure whether or not he should knock. Whether he even had the right to.

He heard movement inside. She'd seen him; of course she had. She must have heard him drive up. Must have looked through a window and seen him lingering on the porch. And, like always, known it was she who had to make the move. Because he was always frozen on the other side of the glass.

So she opened the door, raised an eyebrow with that small smile of hers, and asked if he wanted to come in. And he cleared his throat, looked away, pursed his lips like he always did, always unsure and playing for time.

"Sara," he said, "do you remember when... when I said, I didn't know what to do about this?" He gestured to the space between them. "About us? You told me, that by the time I finally figured it out, it might be too late."

She watched him, impassive and still. "And?"

He cleared his throat again. Laid the fingers of one hand across the other.

"Well, today it nearly _was_ too late. And I still don't know what to do about us." He looked up at her, met her brown eyes. "But as I recall, _you_ did."

She gave him a half smile. "I did," she said. "Now, I'm not so sure. But I'm willing to try."

His whole being relaxed into a smile, and he wondered what had taken him so long.

_Fear, of course. But today the fear of losing her outweighed the fear of losing everything else._

"You wanna come in? I was just about to watch _the Princess Bride_. I can make popcorn," she added, sweetening the pot.

A smile tugged at the corner of Grissom's mouth. "I'd like that."

She stepped aside, allowing him entry. He looked down at the threshold of her private kingdom, knowing everything would change once he stepped inside.

When he raised his head to meet her eyes he caught sight of that white curve of her neck and the image of her seconds from death flashed across his mind. He swallowed, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he saw that sweet, uncertain smile and stepped forward to cup her cheek with his hand.

She didn't say anything, and neither did he. He just looked at her, those eyes, that face, and wondered why he had let the last five years slip away without holding her every moment he could. Wondered why it had taken almost losing her to force him to this point.

"I've been a fool," he said.

And she said nothing, but took his hand from her cheek, kissed his palm, and led him inside.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm re-watching CSI from the beginning; I only ever make it as far as season 9 and then, well.... So anyway, I was watching Season 3's "blood-lust" and got inspired. First fic I've written in YEARS. I really should get back into it.


End file.
